Mint and Jasmine
by Aletto
Summary: the short love story of an improbable couple of happy enemies.. because everyone deserves a happy ending after all, isn't it? Dramione!
1. Chapter 1

**_I need to apologize beforehand for any mistake you could find in this story, but I don't have a beta yet and google isn't useful as it might seem when it comes to grammar rules.. ;)_**

**_I feel also the necessity to add that my characters are obviously "out of their real characters", otherwise they would have jumped at each other's throat in less that one minute, and that wouldn't have been such a great happy ending for a love story..  
and after all, guys, let's face it: I'm simply not J. K. Rowling, so I cannot absolutely write anything that even resemble to the real Draco and Hermione (and Harry, and Snape, and Ginny, and Ron.. shall I continue? xD )  
so please don't flame me telling that they're not as the real characters should be, ok?:)_**

**_disclaimer: all the characters (Draco Malfoy included.. sigh..) belong to the brilliangt imagination of J. K. Rowling  
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It was late night, almost two in the morning, when a sudden shutting noise broke the utmost silence and a low groan followed immediately after.

Draco Malfoy was home. And he could easily add: _finally_.

It had been quite a hard day at the Ministry: as the new junior head department of the public relations office, he had had to deal with some common angry workers requiring to personally speak with the Minister himself about their common little stupid problems, he had had to turn them down and also to gracefully accept a few "compliments" he was made by those kind people.

But that had been nothing. In the afternoon Draco had also attended two meetings, one public conference with dozens of journalists (and that hellish Skeeter woman was there too..) about the recently approved law pro werewolves employment, and the inauguration of the brand new wing in St. Mungo for post war diseases.

Then, when he had managed to find an hour to eat something on his own in a little café in Diagon Alley, he had been pestered again by journalists and gaping people who had probably thought incredible that even a Malfoy had to eat from time to time.

With the result that he had had to run away with half sandwich still in his hands, sandwich that, obviously, during that little escape had entirely fallen over his favourite trousers, leaving them with a huge oily stain on the right thigh.

Seriously. He was exhausted.

He quickly took his robes off, launching them on the nearby sofa. Or chair. Or lamp. It didn't really matter where they would land on, he couldn't see it in the darkness of the room, and more important he couldn't care less in that moment. A house elf would have taken care of it later..

A tiny pop startled him. Draco quickly turned around just to see a little house elf bow politely at him.

- welcome back, Master -

- thank you Winky.. -

- it's Betsy, Master.. -

Draco wanted to slap himself. Why couldn't he ever remember their names correctly?

- forgive me, Betsy, I've had a very long day.. -

- Master must not apologize! Master can call Betsy what he likes, Betsy won't care! -

He sighed. He didn't have enough strength to debate also with that little stubborn creature.

- ok, ok Betsy.. you made the point clear.. -

- is Betsy annoying Master? Betsy didn't want to.. –

Draco had to interrupt that flow of words. He didn't want an hysterical elf self punishing around the house especially not at that ungodly hour...

- no, Betsy. It's all fine. Just bring me some firewhiskey, would you? -

- yes, Master, of course, Master! Betsy obey! -

Just a little _pop_ and she was gone.

Draco let out a deep sigh. Was there someone up there, laughing at him in that moment? Was there someone who had decided that his day still hadn't been tough enough?

Bloody crazy elf.

He made his way to the living room, where the fire was crackling merrily in the fireplace, warming the room and making everything look soft and comfortable in the dim light, and slumped rather gracelessly on the leather armchair. But he didn't care. He didn't give a damn if he was graceless for once, even if he was a Malfoy and Malfoys were never graceless, at least not in public. But now, it was _his_ house, it was almost two in the morning and he had all the rights to slump as he pleased after that hellish day.

Another soft _pop_ told him that Betsy had promptly come back with his whiskey.

- your firewhiskey, Master, as you required.. - Betsy said, setting down the glass on a little coffee table near the armchair and bowing respectfully again.

- if Master needs something else, Master just has to say and Betsy will provide.. -

- thank you, Betsy, I think it's enough for tonight.. -

- yes Master, Betsy just wanted to assure Master she would do anything for.. -

- yes, yes, I've understood that part.. you may go now, Betsy.. -

The creature bowed once again, probably suppressing the urge to add something more, and disappeared leaving Draco alone with his glass.

_Finally._

He took his time to sip his drink, savouring the burning taste of the golden liquid in his mouth, feeling the warmth spreading down his throat to the stomach. That was incredibly relaxing.

He felt the stress of the day slowly fade away, leaving his body warm and relaxed. Another whiskey and he would've probably been ready to drift to bed.

He stood up with the intention of refilling the empty glass, when he noticed it.

On the same coffee table where Betsy had left his glass, there was now a tiny piece of parchment, neatly folded and apparently blank. Why hadn't he seen it before?

Maybe Betsy had brought it together with the whiskey and he had been simply too tired to take notice of it..

Draco had a strange feeling about that little scratch of paper, and he didn't know why: it looked exactly as any other piece of paper that could've been found around the house, but suddenly he didn't feel tired no more.

Jolts of electricity ran down his spine, his stomach constricted for the adrenalin.

It could have been anything, but if it was.. if that was what his sixth sense thought it was, well, it changed everything.

Draco took the piece of parchment with slightly shaking hands and observed it closely at the trembling light of fire, still not daring to open it.

There was undoubtedly something written inside, so it excluded the possibility that it might have been some random useless piece of paper that Betsy had put under the glass to prevent any damage to the wooden table.

There was something written in that bloody paper. He couldn't read what it was, the paper grain was too thick to let him see through it, but he could definitely make out the outlines of something scribbled.

He felt the blood rushing through his veins, the heart pounding like a mad against his ribcage.

He had been waiting for over a week for that letter. If that was the letter he thought it was.

It must have been _that_ letter.

He had just decided that he couldn't wait not a single day more for the answer he had asked, so it _had_ _to be_ that letter. His life just depended on that.

Draco knew he was overreacting: it was just a piece of written paper after all and he wasn't being rational in that precise moment, but he couldn't really help it.

He needed to know. Now.

With trembling fingers he opened the parchment. Slowly. Painfully slowly.

He marginally registered he was holding his breath now. Just a second and he would know..

The first thing he noticed was the scent: a fresh perfume of mint and jasmine, so light it was almost noticeable and still so intoxicating, hit his nose. His lungs automatically expanded to take in as much of that smell as they could.

He didn't need to see anything else to know that it was_ that_ letter.

But now, now that he was sure that it was the letter he had been so painfully waiting for, he needed to know the answer.

He looked down at the opened paper and he noticed the handwriting: there wasn't much written, but he could've recognized those neat black letters among billions.

And then, only then, the meaning of those two simple, little words struck him like a lightening.

_'I do.'_

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**_thanks for reading guys and please keep in mind that reviews, both positive and negative (I said negative, not rude..), are always very appreciated by an author .._**

**_in other words, you'll make me incredibly happy if you leave a comment! ^-^ _**


	2. Chapter 2

**_I want to thanks all those people who read the story, thank you guys, you're really great!  
as always, I apologize for my English.. I'll be better, sooner or later! I promise! ;)_**

**_disclaimer: all the characters belong to J. K. Rowling_**

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If anyone had entered the Malfoy manor in that moment and had walked into the living room, he would've find a dumbstruck Draco Malfoy sitting like a marble statue in his favourite armchair with a letter in his right hand and a stupid smile lingering on his lips.

Definitely not something you usually see a Malfoy doing. Because Malfoys never smiles, they smirk. At least in public.

But Draco had every good reason to smile like the happiest person in the world.

Two simple words.

Two words that had already changed his life in the past more than once and that were changing his life once again.

The simplest answer to the simplest question he had ever made and, still, the one he cared the most.

"do you want to be my wife?"

She had taken her time. A long, interminable week to think it over, to just let him cradle in his doubts. But, then, then she had finally answered.

"do you want to be my wife?"

"I do."

He closed his eyes in happiness, rereading the two words again and again, afraid that maybe it was all a joke and they could fade away.

But they didn't. They remained, black ink against creamy parchment, almost glittering in the low light.

Draco couldn't suppress the joy that suddenly surged inside his chest, the overwhelming warm feeling that spread through his body, igniting his insides, flushing his cheeks, radiating through his skin like a golden aura. He let out a deep, vibrating laugh.

When had it been the last time that he had laughed like that?

He couldn't remember anything that made him happier, not the first time he rode his broom, flying high on the treetops with the wind brushing his face, nor the time at school when they pulled a prank on Snape.

No, even Voldemort's defeat was barely comparable with that letter. He had been happy back then, of course he had. Not having to serve anymore a crazy wizard that threatened to kill his whole family was a great thing, not having to pretend anymore, to lie, to spy, to fear every single day of his life to be discovered and killed, to fear for his loved ones and for his less loved ones.. no, the fall of Voldemort had been a great, great thing.

But this.. this was simply better.

Maybe the only thing that could compete was the time that she accepted to get out with him. And then their first kiss. And when she accepted to be his girlfriend.

Definitely, those with her were among the best days of his life.

A sharp knock on the window glass snatched him out of his reverie.

He quickly got up and went to the window, letting the big barn owl in and hurrying to undo the knot that kept the parchment scroll tied to his leg.

The owl hooted indignantly for the little attention he was paid, but Draco didn't care and just fed him some owl treat, unrolling the parchment.

It was another of her letters, he knew because he had recognised the owl and, once again, her perfume. That mixture of mint and jasmine that only she wore, the same scent he had smelled the time he had prepared a love potion at school, when he still ignored his feelings for her..

'_admit it. you were grinning like a crazy nargle..  
__Ps. Don't be rude as always with Hades and pay him some attentions..'_

He chuckled softly and summoned a quill and some paper with a flick of his wand.

'_your divination skills are greatly improved, my dear! And Trelawney told you it wasn't your subject.. what a fool!  
__But why such an obvious question, love of my life and soon-to-be gorgeous wife?_

_Ps. Your owl had almost bitten my finger off and I should be the one being polite? No way!'_

Draco rolled the parchment and attached it to the leg of the black owl, that gave him in exchange a death glare, and let him fly outside again from the window in the dark night.

Only ten minutes had passed since the bird had took off, when a voice coming from behind startled him.

- because you just made me win ten galleons to Ginny.. -

He turned around to face the woman that meant everything to him, his heart skipping a beat: Hermione was leaning to the door, a wide smile spread across her beautiful face.

- glad to know I made you richer, love - he answered, moving towards her.

Once he was less than two feet from her, Draco took her hand and kissed her knuckles softly, never tearing his eyes from the honey of hers.

- I missed you, today.. - she whispered brushing her nose lightly on his cheek

- I missed you too, but you already know that.. -

She chuckled, snuggling close to him and resting her head in the crook of his neck.

He loved his witch, Draco didn't doubt that even for a split second. He truly, deeply loved her.

How could he not love her, that little snuggling form, that mess of brown curls and soft curves? How couldn't he be fascinated by her pristine laugh, by her wit, her beauty and those warm, liquid honey eyes?

He definitely could spend the rest of his life just like that, embracing her and feeling her heartbeats against his.

Wasn't that love?

- oh and, by the way.. – he whispered in her ear – I'd rather be compared to an hippogriff, not a nargle.. -

She jokingly punched him on the arm and quirked an eyebrow enquiringly.

- and what gives you the impression that you'd be better if compared to a hippogriff, Mr Malfoy? Have you ever seen a nargle? -

He smirked smugly.

- well, the last time I saw Lovegood, I remember quite distinctly she was telling nargles were little and flying all above my head.. so, yes Miss Granger, I think I'm qualified enough to tell that I'm more a smirking hippogriff than a grinning nargle - he answered seriously.

- oh, seriously? Then show me! - she dared him.

He smirked again, making her laugh.

- ok, this is definitely a smirk.. – she conceded – anything else that proves you're not a nargle? -

He seemed to think about it for a second and, when she less expected, he swiftly scooped her in his arms, walking into the living room.

- what..! Draco! – she shrieked – Draco, put me down immediately! -

- but, love, this is the proof I'm not a nargle! – he answered nonchalantly, carrying her around the room like a doll.

- could a nargle ever do this? – he asked, while spinning around, her arms tightly around his neck.

- Draco! Draco, stop it! – she shrieked again.

- only if you admit I'm not a nargle but a hippogriff.. -

He made her spin faster and Hermione squealed.

- ok, ok, you're not a nargle, you're not a nargle! You're a hippogriff.. -

He smiled. He always obtained what he wanted. Malfoys always did.

- now let me down, please, I feel like I'm going to be sick.. -

Draco quickly put her down on the nearest sofa, sitting down beside her and scrutinizing her features.

She looked a little green indeed.

- I'm sorry, Hermione.. do you feel well? -

She flashed him a wide thirty-two teeth smile.

- of course I do, my little, stupid nargle! -

He had been fooled! He couldn't believe it: Draco Malfoy had been fooled by his gryffindor girlfriend. Fiancée. Soon to be wife. Whatever..

- don't gape like that, it doesn't make you look more intelligent.. - she laughed.

- you, little snake.. - he growled, giving her the worst look he could.

That wasn't much, truth to be told. He couldn't really be angry at her, or look bad in those eyes of hers.

A sudden thought hit him.

- how did you know that I was home when you sent the letter? -

Her smile broadened.

- I used my inner eye, and saw it in my crystal ball obviously.. -

He quirked an eyebrow. Even if her tone was extremely serious, he couldn't absolutely buy that rubbish. Anyone who knew just a little Hermione Granger knew how much she despised divinations (and her former divination teacher in particular..)

- seriously.. -

- ok, but promise you won't get angry.. -

- why should I get angry? -

- just promise! -

He didn't like where that discussion was going. Why should have he got angry? Was it something so terrible? But, after all, he didn't have much choice, did he?

- I promise I won't get angry.. - he huffed.

- I had asked Betsy to tell me when you would have got home and she apparated to mine when she was supposed to fetch you the firewhiskey.. -

That little bloody elf..  
But at least that made sense: it explained how the first letter arrived.. and why it had taken so much time to bring him the firewhiskey..

- aren't you angry? - she asked anxious.

- why should I? You told me that you'll marry me, and you have just demonstrated that you're more slytherin than gryffindor! - he said proudly.

They both burst into laughter.

- I love you, Draco Malfoy.. -

- I love you too, Hermione Malfoy.. -

He lightly brushed his lips against hers, savouring her taste and anticipating what that kiss could bring.

- and, talking about that.. - she interrupted his thoughts.

Did she ever shut up?

- talking about what, love? - he asked, capturing her lower lip between his teeth and trying to resume their kiss where they had left it.

She purred quietly and nibbled his upper lip in revenge.

- talking about my surname.. -

- what about Malfoy? - he teased her, lightly caressing the skin of her neck with the tips of his fingers.

He could feel her heart speeding under his touch, and lowered his lips to give her a kiss just over the pulse point.

- and what about Granger-Malfoy? - she managed to say between her stifled moans, straddling on his lap.

Draco wanted to groan in frustration: they had already had that conversation billions of times before and he had always been adamant on his position: he wanted Hermione to take his surname only, he wanted to show the world that she was _his_ witch, but she had always wanted some kind of independence..

But now, with her light weight on his lap, her scent intoxicating his brain, her warm body all over his, her hands moving on his chest and her lips.. those wonderful, full, hot lips..

How could he resist a temptation like that?

Definitely, she was way too slytherin for being just a normal gryffindor..

- I think we could find an agreement about that.. -

She smiled wickedly pressing further her body on his and looking straight into those silver eyes.

- I think that this could be easily arranged.. -

He didn't let her repeat it twice and toppled her on her back, trapping her body between the sofa and his own body, while his hands began roaming through her hair, back, neck, breasts and thighs, making Hermione gasp and squirm in pleasure.

- great, negotiations are definitely my specialty.. - he murmured hoarsely, attacking her soft neck with his lips.

- I'm afraid you have a too high opinion of yourself, Mr Malfoy.. - Hermione retorted teasingly, biting lightly his earlobe and starting unbuttoning his shirt to have better access to his warm body.

- we'll see, my dear, we'll see.. -

**o o o **

One sofa, a wall, one carpet, one desk, one bed and about two hours and forty-five minutes later, Hermione was so tired that she wouldn't probably remember anymore what the matter of discussion had been.

Draco smirked inwardly looking at her half asleep form. There was a reason why he had been called the prince of slytherin, after all..

- Draco? - her soft voice called from the bed where she laid wrapped only in the bed sheet.

- yes, my love? -

- now can I keep my surname? -

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**_thank you all guys for reading and please remember to leave a review, even a little little one! suggestions are always well accepted! :D_**

**_sincerely, I don't really know what I should do with this story.. should I continue it? insert some pretty hot scene? or just leave it the way it is now? please tell me what you think! ^-^_**


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